


Close Calls and Future Decisions

by FleetofShippyShips



Series: Otayuri Assassin's Creed AU [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Assassin Otabek Altin, Assassin Yuri Plisetsky, Assassin's Creed AU, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 08:48:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14281308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleetofShippyShips/pseuds/FleetofShippyShips
Summary: Yuri is on a mission alone when he becomes trapped in a neighbourhood surrounded by guards.





	Close Calls and Future Decisions

“What are you doing down there?”

Yuri stared running before even checking who had spoken.

“Oi, you! Stop there!”

His instincts were correct, as always, as heavy footfalls and clinking mail followed him. Looking around quickly, he darted between two close buildings and through onto another street, weaving through the crowd and slowing down once he got there.

With his heart hammering in his chest, he forced himself not to look back. He could hear them yelling and shouting as they entered the same street, but kept moving carefully, weaving through the crowd but not at a pace that would attract notice.

Moments later, the sound of bells filled the air, and he cursed under his breath. At least he had killed his target. Staying to check his pockets had been a mistake. Stealing was a habit he couldn’t break. It wouldn’t be the first time it landed him in trouble.

Only this time he didn’t have a partner.

All around him, the crowds started thinning, dispersing to the sides of the street as they took note of the commotion. Up ahead he saw a group of guards spread out, blocking off the street. A checkpoint.

A quick glance down at himself had him cursing again. It hadn’t been a clean kill. A damn cat had shot out of nowhere and startled his target just as he’d gone for the kill. He wasn’t stained with enough blood to be immediately noticeable, but a closer look from the guards would be all it took.

Casting about, he spied another alley, and made for it. But it only led onto another street swarming with guards. Stepping back into the shadows just as a group passed, he took a few breaths and looked up. He could easily lose them on the rooftops, but he didn’t have anyone watching his back.

Otabek was going to murder him. _I_ _f_ he made it back. He hadn’t taken enough time to scout the area. For three days it had been almost clear of guards, he’d moved in for the kill without checking again. He knew better.

Moving slowly down the alley again, he took note of a few doors. One side was a shop with no lodging over it, he remembered, but the other...

Casting a quick look over his shoulder, and pressing his back to the wall as a group of guards marched past the opening to the alley, he quickly patted himself down. With a sigh of relief, he found he still had his lock picks on him from his last mission.

He could hear the guards on the streets flanking the alley start to question people, as he crouched in front of the door. Forcing himself to breathe slowly, he set about picking the lock. If he had to, he could quickly scale the walls and get to the rooftops. If he had to. But with so many guards about, it wasn’t worth the risk. Better to wait it out, or disguise himself.

At the very least he needed to get rid of the blood. Maybe even his weapons.

The quartermaster would not be pleased.

The lock gave with a click and he quickly slipped inside, closing the door quietly behind him. For a few moments he stood still and listened. He could still hear the commotion on the streets. They’d set up checkpoints fast enough that they could have reasonable confidence the killer was nearby.

Later, if he made it out, he’d have to find out why there was such a large concentration of guards in the first place, and how he’d missed it.

Well, he knew why he’d missed it. He’d grown tired of watching and acted. Something he knew he did far too often.

Still, for three days there had been nothing but the occasional patrol by three guards. It wasn’t a neighbourhood that was closely watched, which was why his target went there for his shady business dealings.

When no sounds came from the building itself, Yuri quickly moved through the rooms, treading lightly and casting about. Upon finding the kitchen, he quickly discarded his outer robes and cleaned the blood off his hands. In desperation, he cut his sleeves rather than shed his shirt.

The building was clearly residential, and he quickly walked back through the rooms and up the stairs. It didn’t take long to find something to wear. A coat that would help him pass for a commoner. One with more means than he himself had.

Standing in the room, and still hearing the commotion on the streets, he chewed his lip. It would be prudent to wait, but the guards seemed unusually proactive. Might they search the houses?

Being caught in a house with discarded, bloody robes would be a death sentence. He’d rather try his luck on the street, where he might still manage to escape over the rooftops if he had to.

Mind made up, he slipped downstairs again, and then paused by the door leading to the alley. He eased it open a fraction, and peered through the gap. The alley was still clear, and he slipped out the door and down to the end that had a crowd of people blocking the entrance. Easier to blend into than the other clear end.

Within moments he was within a crowd that lined one side of the street. There were even more guards, and his heart continued to race. He had certainly missed something important, and if he made it out alive, he’d never hear the end of his laziness from the others.

Slowly, and carefully, he wove his way through the crowd, towards one end of the street that joined onto another. The crossroad was blocked by guards, but the crowd was larger there. He might just slip through unnoticed.

There was an ornate carriage waiting behind the guards. Nobility. That explained the increased military presence. More carriages rolled past, and he cursed himself. Some kind of meeting nearby of the nobility would explain everything. But even with his laziness, he surely should have heard whisperings of that. The commoners loved to watch the high and mighty roll by.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

A hand appeared from nowhere to grip his arm. Just above the end of his hidden blade bracer. He was turned roughly to face a heavy set guard with an irritated and bored expression. A dangerous expression for a guard. Far more likely to force trouble just to have something to do.

Without his hood, Yuri felt naked. He was too exposed.

“I’m sorry, sir,” he said, adding a waver to his voice and lowering his head. “My master is waiting for me. I’m late.”

Another guard stepped close. “What’s this?”

“Caught him trying to sneak past the checkpoint,” the first guard answered.

Yuri kept his head down, shaking it slightly to let some loose strands of hair obscure his face a little. Through them, he looked around. People were backing away. They could sense the fight coming as well as Yuri could.

More room to move gave him a greater chance of survival. He could rush past the guards and into the adjoining street, maybe try to get past the carriages still moving past and disappear through the crowds on the other side.

“And who’s your master then?” the guard asked. “What’s your business here?”

Heart racing, Yuri slowed his breathing. He’d have to run. Maybe kill these two to give himself a better chance. Hope the other guards nearby were slow on the uptake. If he could—

“Make way!”

The guards looked past him, and then straightened. “My lord?”

A hand gripped Yuri’s other arm, high up. He was turned roughly again, but could have laughed. He should have recognised the carriage.

Otabek stared at him with distaste. “There you are, boy. I’ve been waiting. There are plenty others who’ll take your place if you can’t fulfil your duties quickly.”

“There’s been a killing, my lord. We’re not to let anyone leave the streets until they’ve been fully searched.”

Otabek turned his expression of disdain towards the guards. “This boy is my servant, I sent him to fetch a note from an acquaintance, and I’ve been waiting here in this carriage for his return for far longer than is proper. This is your doing, is it?”

The guards looked to each other, and Yuri kept his head down. It wouldn’t do to gawk. He’d seen Otabek in his finery before, but he’d never been witness to the full act. It shamed him that even in the danger of the situation, he felt a stirring in his breeches from the way the guards couldn’t look directly at him. Otabek was exuding power, and even though he hated the nobility, Yuri couldn’t help but be aroused by it.

“Do you know why you’re here guarding this route?” Otabek demanded.

There was a low muttering from the guards.

“Of course, my lord,” one of them finally muttered, when it was clear Otabek was waiting for an answer. It was equally clear he was lying. Low-level soldiers never knew anything.

“And you would further delay me from my destination?” Otabek asked, icily.

“Of course not, my lord. He may pass.”

Otabek snorted, turning abruptly and pulling Yuri along to the carriage. Unable to help himself, Yuri looked over his shoulder and smirked at the guards. They looked both shamed and enraged. It was Yuri’s favourite look on soldiers.

“Keep your eyes forward, you fool!” Otabek hissed, as a footman scrambled to open the door to the carriage. “Get in!”

Yuri climbed in and was quickly followed by Otabek. Moments after the door to the carriage had slammed shut, the carriage lurched forwards. Seconds later, Otabek leaned across the small space and shoved Yuri back against the seat with a firm hand on his chest.

“You absolute fool! Why did you carry out your mission today? You should have waited!”

Yuri looked at the crowded streets passing by through the carriage window. “What exactly is going on?” he asked, knowing full well he was digging his own grave. “And how did you know to be there to—”

“To save your ass?” Otabek hissed, sitting back in the opposite seat and straightening his clothes. “Saw some of the guards lining the street rush off from their posts. I remembered you saying you’d picked that street for your kill. You idiot!”

Yuri growled and leaned forwards. “The streets were clear of guards for three days! What the hell is going on?”

Otabek stared at him for a moment, and then looked to the side and cursed. “If the note wasn’t passed along to you, then you weren’t deemed important enough to know,” he muttered.

“Know what? What’s with the parade of nobles? I heard no word of this on the streets!” Not that he had been paying much attention, he could admit. “What’s going on?”

Otabek looked at him, and then out the window again. “I passed along the information the moment I could get away long enough to send word. If the information was not shared with you, then you had already left headquarters, or you were not deemed worthy of knowing. I can’t say anything further until I know which. You know how these things go, Yuri.”

Yuri sat back and stared at him. Away from the crowds and the threat, he took a moment to look him over in the dim light of the carriage. He’d merely glanced over his finery before, but looking closer revealed it to be particularly fine. Not everyday wear for nobility. He’d never seen him so dressed up.

“It’s something political,” he guessed. “Some kind of meeting.” That wasn’t hard to see. So many fine carriages all going in one direction. An increase in the number of guards watching the route, and the streets closest to it. Last minute too, or kept very quiet, or the chatter on the streets would have been loud enough for even Yuri to notice when he wasn’t paying attention.

“You know I can’t discuss certain missions with you,” Otabek said, rubbing a hand over his face and cursing softly.

Without warning, he suddenly reached out and grabbed the front of Yuri’s stolen coat, pulling him close.

“You can’t rush in when you are on your own,” he said, low and urgent. “If I’m not there to have your back, you _need_ to check and recheck your surroundings. _Always_! Even if they were clear the day before. Even if they were clear for several days prior. Always check!”

Yuri could feel his hackles rise, and angry words bubble up in his throat, but he forced them down. “Consider the lesson learned,” he muttered.

Otabek didn’t let him go, but continued to stare at him. The longer he did so, the more fear bled through the anger.

Slowly, Yuri fumbled to either side, until he managed to close the carriage windows and block them from prying eyes.

“I’m alright, Beka,” he said softly.

It only took the length of a breath for Otabek to lean forward. Yuri took care to keep his hands off him as they kissed, too aware that he might dirty his clothes. But Otabek took no such care. His hands threaded through Yuri’s hair, pulling it from it’s ties. His thumbs pressed at Yuri’s cheeks and then down the line of his jaw to press underneath. As they kissed, Otabek was checking the beating of his heart at his throat.

“You’ve gone so soft,” Yuri murmured the moment their lips parted.

“You don’t fear for me when I take missions on my own?” Otabek asked quietly, through harshened breathing. “You never fear I won’t return?”

A hitch in Yuri’s breath gave him away, but he refused to indulge in this. They were assassins. Every day might be their last. He worried less for Otabek than he worried for himself. They never sent Otabek on anything too dangerous alone. He had too much value as a political chess piece. Even more so because he moved about the board so willingly.

Otabek brought their lips together once more, and then sat back, drawing open the shutters of one window to let the light in again.

“I’ll have to let you out soon. You can’t come with me. Not dressed like that.”

Yuri leaned back in his seat, running a hand through his hair. “Of course.”

Otabek straightened his collar. “I’ll be gone for several days. Perhaps weeks. Do take more care with yourself while I’m gone.”

Yuri looked him over. “It’s not a coup, is it?”

Otabek leaned forward and rapped his knuckles on the wall of the carriage behind Yuri’s head.

As the carriage slowed to a stop, Yuri’s mind raced. A coup. Of course. If not by military action, than by some kind of vote. Some blatant display of support from the nobles and politicians. Someone would be vying for power, and rallying support to his side.

Yuri reached out and grabbed Otabek’s arm tightly. “A coup? Are you serious?”

“I have a mission to carry out, Yuri,” Otabek said calmly, slowly. “A life to take. You’ll learn the details when it is deemed necessary that you know them.”

The footman opened the door and stepped away. Yuri stared out the doorway for a moment.

“Go, Yuri. You need to report back,” Otabek said quietly.

Yuri bit his lip. A high profile assassination was big business. Business no one thought he ought to know. It wouldn’t sting half so bad if it wasn’t Otabek wielding the blade.

“You’ll be safe?” he asks.

Otabek snorted softly. “I tend to take my missions a little more seriously than you do. Now go already. Stopping once probably drew unwanted attention, but stopping twice? I’ll be done for sodomy, dragging a pretty boy into my carriage and then letting him off again some time later.”

Yuri ran a hand through his hair and winked at him. “You did mess up my hair,” he said lightly, before hopping out of the carriage. His stomach was churning, but he kept walking away without looking back.

Otabek was right. He took his missions seriously, and carefully. It was always Yuri getting them in trouble. He didn’t need to make things more difficult for him.

 

* * *

 

Otabek was waiting up for him when Yuri slipped through his bedroom window the night he returned. He had two goblets of wine poured, and was lounging on a chair by his fireplace holding one of them. Yuri had all the facts now, and approached him carefully.

“I thought the Duke was your friend,” he said softly.

Otabek sipped from his goblet. “The brotherhood always comes first. The mission always comes first,” he said quietly. “He may not have been a Templar himself, but it was Templars whispering in his ear that made him think he could seize control of a city state like that. He was a fool, and it got him killed.”

Yuri picked up his goblet and took the chair next to Otabek’s. “And those that had been whispering?”

“They were not my mission,” Otabek muttered, before draining the rest of his goblet.

“Give me their names,” Yuri whispered, putting his goblet down as Otabek did.

Otabek shook his head. “We need to wait until their leader reveals himself. If anyone moves on them now, it will only drive him further into the shadows.”

“When the time comes, make sure I’m assigned with you,” Yuri said, watching him closely. “I’ll look the other way if you want to take your time with them.”

Otabek snorted. “You just love to break all the rules, don’t you? I heard all about how you snooped around headquarters until you found what you were looking for. Information you weren’t supposed to know. Don’t you ever tire of punishment?”

Yuri shrugged. “I wasn’t raised on the creed like you and your family. Or most of the brothers. I was raised on the streets. I’m out for survival, not the creed. Being one of you just helps me survive.”

“That’s why you always make mistakes,” Otabek said tiredly, letting his head rest back, staring at the ceiling. “That’s what will get you killed one day. Not taking the creed seriously.”

Yuri got up and moved over, taking Otabek’s hand and tugging him to his feet. “Assassins don’t live long lives anyway. Come to bed. You can lecture me in the morning if you still want to. You can even take me to the training yard and kick my ass until your feel better. Right now, we sleep.”

Otabek let himself be moved to the bed, and laid down. Yuri went around and snuffed out the candles until the room was lit only by the fireplace.

After he had slipped into the bed and sprawled himself over Otabek, he waited.

It didn’t take long.

“I looked him in the eye when I killed him,” Otabek whispered in the dark. “He knew it was me. He knew it was his friend that killed him.”

Yuri pretended he didn’t hear his tears, and just pressed kisses to his shoulder. Within him burned anger towards their masters. They could have sent another. Someone to slip in and do the deed while Otabek maintained his cover. They could have even sent Yuri. But no, they’d sent Otabek to kill his friend.

Testing his loyalty no doubt.

Otabek and the others could waffle on about the creed as much as they liked. It didn’t make it any more right to send someone to kill their friend when any other could have done the deed.

Not taking the creed seriously wouldn’t be the thing that got Yuri killed. He knew he’d end up dying on a mission doomed to fail, one he would never go on were the choice his, but one he would ultimately join simply because Otabek was a part of it. Otabek would never walk away, and that’s what would get him killed, and Yuri too.

Assassins never lived long lives, but the Templars they were sent to kill were often old and rich and fat. Yuri hadn’t failed to take note of it.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by @rey-of-sunshine, prompt: _“What are you doing down there?”_
> 
> Whoops, so I didn't really plan that wee nudge at the end towards the Templars buuuuut, it suits Yuri??


End file.
